As I admire the beautiful cottage and begin to be filled with little hope that maybe things might change for the better as time goes by although I don't want to get my hopes too high less I get disappointed but if I'm not going to be hopeful then what kind of life am I going to live? How will I obtain the strength to face tomorrow which is unknown.
We, people usually fear the unknown more than the obvious things, I suddenly recall the words my nana uttered to me on her death bed, "no matter how long and how hard it rains the sun will shine again,"
I choose to be hopeful.
"You must be starving," mother Margaret says, hearing her speak snaps me out of my thoughts.
"Yes I am," I reply with my hand rubbing my tummy. I hope she is going to prepare something nice for me, in fact I know she
